Pyjamas
by seabury
Summary: Everyone is called into the Great Hall in the middle of the night... and all Draco can do is criticize everyone's choice of sleepwear! Oneshot, rated K.


A/N: This is my first time writing fanfiction, so any reviews are welcome! I have had this plot bunny for a while and needed to get it written up : ) .

Disclaimer: If I owned anything Harry Potter related, I wouldn't be writing this now, would I?

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It began with a dream.

Severus Snape was slowly stirring the potion within his smouldering cauldron, and the motions had one Draco Malfoy staring, completely mesmerized, at his soft and subtle movements. His eyes lingered on his hands a moment more, before travelling up his obsidian robe clad arm, and locking eyes with him. Snape, noticing Draco drooling over his potions book, walked over to him, his eyes never leaving his. Draco leaned forward, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. Just as he was about to plant a kiss on his scrawny and greasy Potions Master, a loud, cheerful voice boomed in his ear.

Draco Malfoy woke with start, and for some reason unbeknownst to him, thought it was a wonderful idea to jump up so suddenly onto his bed that he hit his forehead on the top of his richly green four poster bed. Promptly forgetting about his erotic dream, he cursed himself and slumped back onto the bed. His ears searched deeply for the noise that had just rent the air. He realized that on either side of him, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were stirring, evidently straining to discover what had woken them from their peaceful slumbers (although Crabbe had clearly not slept well, he was snoring loud enough to wake the Gryffindors and had tossed so much that he was trying to escape from the cocoon that were his silvery green bedcovers).

"Whazz goin' on?" Goyle managed to say, looking very disoriented indeed.

Draco sighed at Crabbe and Goyle's obvious imbecility as the cheerful voice sounded loudly once more.

"All students are to proceed to the Great Hall. It seems a certain… prank has been set off and all students must be accounted for. Apologies will be in order for disrupting your quiet catnaps. Catnaps! What a wonderful word, don't you think??!" Cried the voice of Albus Dumbledore from out of nowhere.

Mumbling a few profanities under his breath and wondering what foolish thing the Weasley twins had possibly done, Draco made his way into the Great Hall. Upon entering, his eyes met a sight of which they had never before encountered.

Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin alike all sat in the Great Hall at their respective tables, except every single student was dressed in their pyjamas. It wouldn't have seemed very out of the ordinary for just anyone, but at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no one had ever seen the rest of the school displayed in all their flannel glory.

Draco smoothed his own pyjamas and proceeded to sit at his table. As one might think, he would be wearing the typical black silk pyjamas monogrammed with his initials in brilliant, sparkling silver letters. However, silk was not appropriate attire for the cold Slytherin dormitories. Draco really wore pyjamas made of the softest fleece in a pale, mint green. Regardless, he took pride in his appearance, and in front of the entire school he donned a deep green velvet dressing gown, on which his initials were blazing proudly.

Draco looked over to his left and glanced at the Gryffindor table. He saw Longbottom first, huddling nervously around Granger, Weasley, and Potter. Neville was wearing sky blue thermal underwear. It clung unflatteringly to his plump body, and to make matters worse, he had tucked the shirt into the bottoms, which he had pulled up so high that they were about four inches above his navel. He got up and moved to sit at a different part of the Gryffindor table so that he was nearer to that Looney Lovegood girl from Ravenclaw. To Draco's horror, as he moved, he got a good glimpse of the rear of Neville's pants, which had a wide flap across the buttocks that could be unbuttoned lest the wearer need to take care of an emergency late at night.

He shook his head and glanced over at Luna, who was wearing a lavender starry nightgown. However, this was no normal nightgown. The sleeves billowed so profusely that they nearly dragged to the floor, and strange creatures had been bewitched to fly dizzyingly around it in bright blurs of colour. He looked at her feet, and was shocked to discover that her feet didn't appear to be there, but in their place were two giant purple puffs of fuzz. As Luna crossed and uncrossed her legs, it became clear that they were just overly fluffy slippers.

As Draco muttered obscenities regarding the unbelievable sense of delusion that affected some people, he looked back over at the Gryffindor table. He laid eyes on the Golden Trio again. Although he would never admit it, he thought that Granger looked rather nice all decked out in a floaty, white nightgown. It was quite simple, really, the way it sort of clung to her bust yet flared out at her hips and swished around her pale legs. A fluffy pink bathrobe lay discarded beside her, and Draco was surprised to see that it wasn't tightly wrapped around its usually stuffy owner.

Weasley sat to her right, casually (though purposefully, Draco noted) touching her elbow. He wore maroon plaid pyjama bottoms with an old white t-shirt. Draco looked smugly upon some of the rips and patches in one pant leg, before reluctantly setting eyes on Potter.

He wasn't surprised to see that Potter's sense of style only overcame that of Weasley's by a small margin. He just wore a thin grey sweatshirt with blue and green flannel pyjama bottoms. He looked positively boring. Struggling to look at something that was actually of interest, Draco decided to evaluate the youngest and only female Weasley.

The vivacious and spirited redhead looked completely and utterly peeved to have been woken up in the middle of the night. In fact, she had fallen asleep, half on Potter's arm. Of course, he didn't seem to mind. Draco wouldn't have minded either; she looked subtly sexy in short boxer shorts and a tight green tank top. She even wore striped knee socks, but they just accentuated her toned legs.

Draco decided to survey his immediate surroundings and turned to face those at his table. Crabbe and Goyle had less fashion sense than Potter and Weasley. Crabbe wore a wrinkly pair of brown, tasteless pyjamas, while Goyle wore virtually the same thing in grey. They were such a sorry sight that Draco unenthusiastically decided to see what his least favourite Slytherin had donned.

However, Draco's reluctance towards looking at Pansy dissipated at a startling rate when he got his first eyeful of what she was wearing. Draco's silvery blue eyes widened to orbs before he caught himself and arranged his mouth into an unsettling smirk. Pansy took this as an act of affection and immediately scooted over, leaving disgruntled Millicent Bulstrode in her wake (she had been pushed to the floor by Pansy's sudden rush of Malfoyitis). Much to his displeasure, she sat down right beside him and trailed a finger along the table, tracing circles in a repetitive pattern. If she was trying to seduce Draco, she was failing miserably, and should probably put on different clothes to give herself an ounce of a chance. He muttered something about having to talk to Goyle the second she sat down, and moved to the other side of the table where the stone structure served as a suitable barrier between them. He could now absorb her absurd choice of sleepwear in peace.

He had noted during her scrambling spree towards him that she was wearing a gaudy and garish pair of heels, which were at least five inches high and were extremely pointy at the tips. There were strands of blazing orange fluff circling her wobbling ankles, and the acidity of the green shoe reminded him with an unpleasant jolt of one Rita Skeeter. Draco assumed that she had pulled on the first pair of footwear she had seen before making it down to the Great Hall, because her nightgown only matched her flashy footwear in an overwhelming sense of luridness. It was distastefully short and was a sickly pink. Ruffles adorned the bottom half and followed each other in such rapid succession that it just looked a mess. The top half was covered in big, black velvet bows which clashed terribly with the magenta, and she wore a matching bow in her hair. Draco could not believe that any sane witch or wizard would ever go out in front of other people wearing such a monstrosity. Then again, Pansy wasn't what you would necessarily call a "sane" person.

Taking his eye off the lurid spectacle in front of him, he decided to inspect the Head Table of professors. McGonagall had donned a crisp tartan dressing down as usual, but her usually strict hairstyle was abandoned and her greyish brown tresses cascaded down her shoulders. Draco even thought he saw Flitwick smelling her hair from the corner of his eye, a dazed look upon his face.

_Flitwick and McGonagall?_ He mused, smirking. He had always pegged Dumbledore for McGonagall, but perhaps he was sadly mistaken.

Speaking of the nut, Dumbledore was wearing nothing short of spectacular. His vividly violet spangled robes and corresponding nightcap (which was so tall and pointy that it had tumbled over in a crisp slump) outshone anyone in the room. His eyes twinkled mischievously from behind his half-moon spectacles. In fact, Draco suspected that the Weasley twins' prank was just an excuse of his to gather the school in a midnight feast of sorts. Draco now noticed the steaming silver jugs of hot cocoa and buttered toast that had appeared at each long table.

"It seems the previous trouble has been all accounted for," Dumbledore suddenly said from his perch at the far end of the Hall. "However, I invite you all to partake in this… unplanned (at this his eyes twinkled) midnight feast, for it is a rare occasion indeed to be found at Hogwarts."

"And if I may say," he added as an afterthought, "The hot cocoa is simply divine!"

Those who were unperturbed by the sudden wake-up call erupted into cheers from their respective tables at the prospect of a late-night party. Many people began filling up their mugs and tearing into the toast when something odd caught Draco's eye.

Just to the left of Dumbledore, sat one extremely and unnervingly disgruntled Severus Snape, who was wearing what looked to be …

…_a nightie?!?!_

Draco cursed a million curses as he proceeded to spell off the hot cocoa that he had promptly spilled on himself.

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Well, that's it! I hope it went okay, now press that little button, no, not that one, just down there, to your left, no, you've gone to far, yes, there, that's it, and leave a review please!


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